


Brian's Turn

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Canon, No Slash, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-05-28
Updated: 2005-05-28
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12070047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian turned fiction into a night of terror for his friends.Author Notes: It helps if you've seen, read, or know of the book by Bret Easton Elis 'American Psycho'





	Brian's Turn

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

There was little time to think during sex, but Brian managed to do it with style. He pumped savagely against a stranger's willing hole, clutching the silky duvet beneath them for control. The bored look in his eyes had become a permanent fixture in every recent one-night stand. *I need something new. Different. He contemplated, pulling a handful of wavy black hair towards him to examine. The man was definitely Italian and entirely too good-looking to be real. Yet Brian had found him. Not only that, but he'd made the exclusive top a moaning, whimpering bottom. *I've got it!* Brian lips curled into a smile as the two climaxed within seconds of each other. 

"Perfect." Brian purred, speaking of his plan and not the man panting below him. Rolling to one side, Brian grinned, glancing sideways at the five a.m. trick. "What's your name?" 

The man seemed shocked, as if he knew Brian Kinney's reputation. "Mario." 

Brian nodded. "How would you like to stick around and make some money, Mario?" He asked in his most intriguing tone, pulling himself out of bed and waltzing gracefully to the kitchen. He retrieved a bottle of water and rolled it over his forehead, his smile only growing. 

"W-What kind of money?" Mario asked nervously. 

"Don't worry. It'll be fun." Brian mused persuasively. "By the way, Mario, how are you with surprises?" 

* 

Brian stroked the blood-soaked shag carpeting wistfully, trailing a finger over the sticky red mess splashed across Mario Angelotti's bare, chiseled chest. It was just passed three in the afternoon and the activity had been going on for hours: screaming, setting up for the next stage of the plan. He raked dirty fingernails through the man's matted hair and then rose, grabbing the phone and dialing excitedly. 

"Hello?" 

"Mikey?" Brian said in a low, hurt voice. He cleaned his hands and made sure his skin was spotless before sliding into a tailor-made, gray business suit. 

"Brian, what's wrong?" 

He smiled impishly, but his tone remained the same. "I-I can't take it any more." 

"Whoa, wait a second, Bri! Don't do anything. I'll be right there!" Michael shouted. 

Brian hung up, looking at himself in the mirror. The expensive suit looked absolutely spectacular on him and he straightened his tie, waiting for Michael to arrive. 

* 

3:49 p.m. 

A quick buzz erupted into the silence and Brian grinned, pleased at how smoothly things were working. "Perfect." He reminded himself and then, pointing down at Mario. "Don't move." Dimming the lights, Brian slid the metal door open, but only a crack. 

"Bri?" 

"Come in." He said with a heavy, overplayed sigh. Blocking Michael's view, he pulled him inside and closed the door, standing between the survival and death of the doorway. 

"Brian, what is this?" Michael turned around to where his friend used to be, then to the door. 

"No! Turn around, Mikey." 

Michael did, trying helplessly to decipher what was going on in his friend's obviously troubled mind. He scrunched up his nose and coughed at the sudden, invading chemical smell. "What is that sme -!" 

Brian cupped a rough hand over Michael's nose and mouth, smothering a white rag drenched in chloroform into his airway. The smaller man's body struggled only a short while before falling limp. "Sorry Mike." Brian muttered, dragging him to the couch and wrapping him in thick duct tape. Sliding his best friend to a laying-down position, Brian lit a cigar and called his next victim. 

* 

4:14 p.m. 

"Hello?" Lindsay answered. 

"Lindz? It's Bri. I was thinking can you and Mel find a sitter and come over?" 

"How soon?" She asked, though she knew nothing was ever really planned out in advance with Brian. 

"Fast as possible. I need you two over here. It's a surprise." He told her, sounding as excited as he truly was. 

"Deb does owe us babysitting hours- hold on. Mel! Brian needs to see us." 

"Isn't that convenient!" 

"Come on, Mel!" She shouted into the next room, unrelenting until Melanie agreed. "We'll call Deb." 

"Thanks, Lindz. Hurry up." Brian pushed his finger on the receiver happily. He dialed another number, knowing the lesbians couldn't possibly come quickly. "Emmett? It's Brian. Listen, I need to ask you a huge favor." 

"Okay." Emmett answered cautiously. 

"I need your fashion expertise. Right now. I'm reinventing myself but I don't know how long the urge will last and -" Brian paused, allowing his tall friend to get settled into the palm of his hand. "Oh, forget it." 

"No! Honey, I think it's a good thing." 

"Really?" Brian inquired innocently. 

"I've got the perfect color scheme. Be right there!" 

Brian inhaled slowly, maliciously, at the sound of fresh dial tone. He quickly made sure that Michael and Mario were well hidden by the back of the couch and bounded gleefully to the door when his buzzer rang. 

* 

4:43 p.m. 

The building's maintenance man stood before him, curiously holding two requested items at his sides. 

"Can I ask why you need these things?" He held them up with slight strain. 

Brian examined the chainsaw first, then the sharpened ax. *These things will do nicely.* He decided. "You can ask, but it's not what you're getting paid for, understand?" Brian snapped nastily. Grabbing the weapons while the man nodded, he stashed them out of sight in a low kitchen cabinet. "You can go now." He ordered, shelling out some cash and slamming the door. 

He dialed the phone once more and waited an unbearable four rings until someone picked up. 

"Hello?" 

"What, were you sleeping or something?" 

Justin blushed. "Drawing." 

"What are you doing tonight?" 

"I don't know. Why?" 

"I need you to come over. Around seven?" 

"Why?" 

Brian explained exactly what his plans were, slowly and with immaculate detail, as if it hadn't just come to him during a random fuck but with excruciating time. 

Justin laughed. "You're kidding. You are a psycho!" 

"Exactly." Brian smiled. "I need you to bring a few things and act like you don't know what's going on. Be surprised at what you see." He told him and knew that no matter what he said, Justin would be clearly surprised. Listing off the items needed, Brian let Justin say goodbye first and then answered and hung up. 

* 

5:12 p.m. 

Emmett knocked, arms full of bright blues and sparkling reds. Brian turned the lights down, his curtains fully drawn, inviting the man inside. 

"Why is it so dark in here?" 

"Just wait until you see my hair." He explained, glad that Emmett's hands were busy so he didn't anticipate the attack. 

Disabling Emmett was a somewhat easy task, though he screamed where Michael fought. Brian pressed the dull knife to the thinner man's throat and forced him to sit down on Michael's legs. 

He gasped. "Michael!" He yelled. Michael groaned in response. 

"What are you doing!?" Emmett shrieked while Brian bonded him tightly. "Michael, honey, are you okay?" 

Michael inhaled deeply. "Yeah'|Em? Brian, what's going on?" 

"Shut up or you'll ruin the fun." He hissed madly, gagging both men after adding a soft light to the room. 

Emmett gasped, muffled protests erupting behind the tape at first sight of Mario. 

Brian smiled at his project. The downstairs door buzzed. Pressing the call button, Brian shouted "I'll be right there!" He lightly slapped Michael's face and hit the lights as he ran downstairs to meet the ladies. 

* 

6:27 p.m. 

The plan progressed with only a bit of trouble given from Melanie's right hook early on in the evening. First came the lesbians, one of whom was easy to take down at gun point and the other with chloroform. Ted was the easiest to catch by far, entering the loft under the impression that taxes were the subject of the evening. 

The loft was now full of light, illuminated with every unnatural source in the place. 

Brian rubbed his hands together, the insane gleam increasing the more he thought about it. He loitered in front of the stereo until finally deciding on "Hip To Be Square" by Huey Lewis and the News. 

"Now!" He shouted, forcing everyone to jump but Mario, who lie still on the floor next to Melanie and Emmett. "Who ever thought I'd have you all in the same place. Evelyn," He pointed to Mikey; "Sabrina and Christie," Melanie and Lindsay; "Jean," Emmett; "And Paul Allen." To Ted. 

Michael's eyes widened. *'American Psycho?!'* He thought suddenly, as soon as the last name was uttered. 

Brian placed two glasses of sparkling ginger-colored drink in front of Lindsay and Melanie. "That's a very fine Chardonay you're not drinking." He mused. 

Oh Hell. Michael thought disdainfully. Oh shit. 

* 

6:58 p.m. 

Justin hoped he wasn't going to be late, but the people in the grocery store were giving him trouble. "It's an exotic recipe." He told them, though all they could really do was look at him strangely. "Do you have any pigs blood?" Justin couldn't help but joke as he placed the things on the conveyor belt. *Raw fish, thawed. Liver, gizzards, preferably fresh. Corn syrup. Red food coloring, in abundance. Check.* He waited for the purchases to sum up and paid the cashier, shoving the stuff in his back pack and walking to Brian's house. 

* 

7:21 p.m. 

Justin hoped he wasn't late for the big party. Buzzing, he waited to be let in. "Brian, it's me." He said, adjusting his bag nervously. What if he'd gotten the wrong things? Or too little coloring? 

Brian's eyes lit up. He looked over the frightened faces of his friends and ceased talking in a rolling monologue about every aspect of his very nineteen-eighties evening music selections. "Finally!" He yelled, running to the stereo and turning it up. "Come on up!" 

Five different voices tried to warn Justin behind the silver tape, shaking their heads and trying to get free as if Justin could hear them. 

Justin entered casually, unafraid and unnoticing. The music was loud, so he couldn't hear their pleas. He slid his backpack off his shoulders. "I brought dessert." He smiled and shoved the whole thing into the refrigerator. "But it's a surpri -" 

Justin's eyes widened as he saw the condition of the loft and its inhabitants. He backed away, but too slowly as Brian grabbed him hard by the arm, swung him towards the couch, and slammed the appliance's door. 

"Brian!" Justin snapped, rubbing his arm. He scowled. "Who is that!" He pointed at Mario, the true emotions of seeing another trick mixing with good acting skills. "And what are you doing?" 

"Oh, lighten up." Brian said deviously. He moved over to Justin, deliberately stepping over Mario's still body. He turned down the music as if temporarily side-tracked and returned to his pursuit. 

Backing away, Justin's eyes flew to Michael for help. "W-Why?" Was all he could manage before tripping over the coffee table and flying to the carpet. The look in Brian's eyes was distracting and Justin couldn't help but wonder why the man didn't take up acting as a career. Sudden panic flowed through his small body and doubt penetrated his rationality. What if he really is crazy? 

"You need to be still now, darling." Brian cooed, his voice floating above reality in a sing-song voice. 

"Brian, knock it off!" Justin hollered, gingerly rubbing his head. "This isn't funny!" 

"Be still." Brian repeated. "We wouldn't want you to hurt your pretty face. After all, you -are- the closest to perfect I've ever seen." 

Michael's eyes widened, glad that Justin was Courtney, a character that didn't get killed in 'American Psycho', Brian's favorite book and movie, and the obvious source of his mimicking. 

"Stop it!" Justin begged, holding his hands out at arms' length for protection, switching his gaze back and forth from Brian to the path behind him. 

Brian lunged at Justin, toppling to the floor on top of the youth. Justin screamed, the noise cut short when every ounce of air disappeared from his body. Easily overpowering Justin, Brian held the boy's wrists above his head, pushing them to the floor. With his head lolling from side to side, Justin's eyes fluttered. Brian got up and pulled Michael over to the closest wall, giving Justin time to recover from his accidental injury but not wanting to break character. He propped him up and sat next to him, watching Justin slowly return to full consciousness. Brian turned his attention to Michael and ripped the gag off. 

"Brian, don't do this!" 

"Evelyn, would you please stop with this wedding stuff?" 

"Listen, we can get you help -" Michael caught himself. If he could distract Brian long enough, it was possible that Justin could escape and get help. "We should do it." 

Brian grinned, taking his place in the story. "Do what?" 

"Get married." Michael said with a chipper bounce in his voice, his big brown eyes catching Justin wobbling towards the bedroom like a drunkard. 

"No!" Brian yelled, fully aware of Justin's movements the whole time. He leaped to the kitchen and hoisted the ax onto his shoulder. The composure returned to his countenance and he walked calmly to Justin, pushing the boy down behind the secrecy of closed glass doors. 

Screaming, Justin toppled against one door almost hard enough to break through. His silhouette was cast dimly past the glass and he screamed again as the shining silver blade fell at him with a hard blow, smacking the floor. Bright red liquid splattered against the pane in tune with Michael's screams. Only he, Emmett, and Melanie could see what had just happened, though none of them could do anything to help. 

* 

Brian smiled fondly, dragging Justin until they were no longer visible to his captives. 

"You were great." He whispered softly into Justin's ear, sending shivers over the boy's skin. 

Justin opened his eyes and smiled proudly. "You've really done it this time." He whispered back. "They're going to lock you up if Mel doesn't kill you first." 

"She hasn't seen the worst of it." He laughed quietly. 

Justin looked up at his lover and the both burst with laughter, burying their faces against each other to keep from revealing the truth. Lifting his blonde head, he looked himself over. "We need more blood'|" 

"I've got that under control. You bought the stuff, right?" 

"Yeah." 

"Then let me worry about this and-" He paused, recalling the incident before. Brian rubbed the back of Justin's scalp. "Your head'|" 

"I'm okay." He took Brian's hand away and pressed his impersonated bloody hands to his lips. "You are so bad Brian Kinney." 

"You ready?" 

Justin nodded, then moaned dramatically. Brian jumped up and grabbed a remote control, turning the power to the loft off entirely. Feeling his way to the kitchen, he stuck his nose in the refrigerator and rummaged through Justin's back pack. The corn syrup was easy to identify and he smiled, wrapping his fingers around the neck of the bottle and a few small boxes of food coloring. He could hear the people in his living room whimpering, moving around, scared shitless of the darkness masking their tormentor. 

As soon as he was hidden once more behind the safety of his bedroom doors, the lights flicked back on and the mixing process began. 

"Too red." Justin scolded softly, squeezing a few drops of blue into the concoction. "Perfect." He looked up at Brian to see the man was just as pleased. "So who is that guy?" Justin demanded instantly, scorned, turning the subject from a light drizzle to a hurricane of emotion as suddenly as Mother Nature. 

"You know who he is." Brian told him, not bitterly but with a warning glance. He didn't want to pursue this subject again monotonously. 

Justin sighed. "Okay." The smile returned to his face as he covered his emotions. "Let's get this show on the road." 

Justin moaned again while Brian slapped his leg hard enough to make a sound. "That's it. That's right. Wake up." He coaxed. Justin offered up a dreamy daze while the older man stroked his hair. 

"Now." Brian ordered. 

Justin screamed, the sound piercing and unnaturally high. With another wail following soon afterward, Brian couldn't hide the fact that Justin was made for screaming. He made a mental note to elicit more of the same when they were alone, making sure that the boy wasn't faking it the second time around. A hungry gurgle erupted from deep in the boy's throat as he drank some of the mixture and splattered it over his ivory cheeks with a choking cough. 

Jumping to his feet, Brian emerged from the bedroom carrying a sticky, smeared bundle wrapped within his sheets. Tossing it inside the fridge, he tampered more with the contents from the supermarket, squishing some of the raw meat inside of the wadded linen. Standing up, he eyed his prisoners while extracting a nail gun from one drawer and Mace from another. Just as Michael readied himself to protest that Courtney wasn't killed in the book, he realized that Justin's character had been changed to fit a whim, and what he'd changed to was not going to be pretty. 

* 

Lindsay didn't want the knowledge flowing through Michael's mind. Judging by the sheer terror gleaming in his eyes as unshed tears, guessing Brian's next more was as easy for Michael as breathing. She tried not to concentrate on Michael, or on the dead man at her feet. Lindsay forced herself to push Justin and the child's groans out of her mind and flexed every muscle she could to stretch the tape. A series of sickening thuds floated to their ears as the trigger of Brian's nail gun went off. Justin screamed. 

Michael swallowed hard. "He's going to kill him. Brian's turned Justin into the whore'|or, God, who was she? Bethany?!" His breathing became ragged. "He shot her with a nail gun and'|fucked her in the mouth'|sprayed her with pepper spray'|cut off her nipple'|" His lip trembled. 

Melanie winced as she listened to the soft moans coming from Brian's bedroom as he pleasured himself; to the choking whimpers of pleading pain slipping from Justin's mouth. She couldn't see, but knew what was going on, with or without Michael's traumatized testimony. The nail gun had gone off on several more occasions until Justin ceased to scream. 

Brian came out from the bedroom, licking the blood from his fingers like barbecue sauce. He waltzed over to Melanie carrying a small rectangular box. "Not quite blonde, are you?" He asked her, pressing his mouth close to her ear. She bucked her head, slamming into Brian's lips. 

"Bitch!" Brian snarled, tearing open the box, sending paper everywhere. "For maximum effect, leave on for forty-five minutes." He mumbled, reading from the instructions. "This'll due." He mixed two bottles together, eyeing the instructions all the while screaming with glee inside. "Insert bottle 'A' into bottle 'B' and apply to dry hair, working into a rich, creamy lather." He followed directions for perhaps the first time in his life, the smell of hydrogen peroxide and ammonia invading the living space. *And Justin thought she would kill me before.* He smiled and checked his watch. Things were moving along nicely. He tossed the box of hair dye and returned to the bedroom. Justin didn't know what was going on outside, and Brian wasn't about to tell him that the blonde color had been a gag-gift for the boy's birthday that never got wrapped. 

* 

9:02 p.m. 

A mind-altering tearing sound caused Melanie to jump, the intoxicating smell having dizzying effects. She looked at Michael for a reaction to the noise she couldn't place and to her surprise, she saw nothing but elation in the man's eyes. 

Lindsay was free. 

She pulled the tape off quickly, with as little sound as possible, then moved to untie Michael. 

"Christie!" Brian growled, emerging from his bedroom covered in blood, wearing only a pair of solid white tennis shoes. 

"Run!" Michael screamed. 

Obeying without thinking, her legs carried her and she bounded from the door. Screaming, Lindsay banged on every door she passed. Behind her roared an all-too familiar sound, and although she hadn't read the book or seen the film, Lindsay knew the fate of Christie and it involved a fully-capable chainsaw. 

"Help me!" She begged frantically. 

Brian appeared behind her, down the hall a bit and holding the live machine in place of underwear. He laughed maniacally and charged, sending the mother of his son skidding into the open elevator. Slamming her fist against the buttons, Lindsay urged the doors to close hysterically. 

"NO! The stairs! Use the stairs!" Brian screamed angrily as the chute swallowed his victim. "Damnit!" He slowed the motor's vibration to a stop and the hallway fell silent. 

Inside the loft, Justin pressed his face into the remains of a mutilated pillow, the rest currently being chilled in the refrigerator with the meat and sheets. He couldn't believe how far Brian was taking this. Poor Lindsay would have the police over as soon as she figured out a way to open the doors of the elevator back up. Brian had told him to use the stairs, which discouraged him before Brian explained how easily one could purchase industrial-strength magnets. 

Brian re-entered the room and made a phone call, glaring at the group in his living room. "Come get them." He muttered angrily, as if Lindsay hadn't done exactly what she was supposed to do. 

"Brian-" Michael paused, trying to think. The insane gleam in his friend's hazel eyes had turned dangerously stormy. 

Brian ignored him and went on a scavenger hunt through his cabinets. With a grunt, Brian went to his medicine cabinet and threw items until he found what he was looking for. Concealing the small bottle in his fist, Brian turned off the power once more. Picking up the bottle of sweet blood, he made his way to the kitchen. 

The fridge opened and closed with Brian holding a prize in the dark. Unwrapping the chicken gizzards, Brian rubbed them in his hands to warm them up. At first, their presence had endless possibilities but nothing specific, but now Brian's mind overflowed with power. Gagging inaudibly at the slimy organs, Brian maneuvered over to Ted with his objects and a thin knife. 

"Paul?" He asked. "Paul, you're drunk." 

Ted squirmed. "No. Don't do this!" 

Brian unscrewed the lid of a tiny jar, dipping his fingers into the Novocain and slathering it onto Ted's abdomen. Ted shrieked with the chill, his mind racing with possibilities of the tingling sensation. 

"Why yes, this is a rain coat." Brian mumbled, squirting the blood onto Ted's pressed slacks and the wet meat now laying on top of him. Discarding the bottle under the couch, he stood and turned the lights on once more. 

A chorus of cries coerced through the room as everyone caught sight of Ted Schmidt. 

"Brian, no!" Michael wailed, his face drained of all blood it had left after Justin's torture. Ted's eyes coward inside his skull and his head fell backwards in a dead faint. 

Ted, you are so predictable. Brian thought happily. *You couldn't fit into the scheme of things better.* 

* 

9:44 p.m. 

Brian dragged Melanie to her feet by gooey, creamy locks, his hand nearly slipping a dozen times as he pulled her to the shower and pushed her inside. Tears had yet to slow with mourning and disbelief over Ted, but she screamed through the tape as she witnessed first hand the destruction lain over their younger friend. Momentarily stunned, she squirmed as the hot water hit her, sending bleach cascading down her black shirt and blue jeans. Brian washed the dye out, his eyes wider than ever before. 

Melanie Marcus was now a light golden blonde. He threw her onto the carpet next to Mario like a piece of trash once he was done. 

Brian raced to the fridge, a sudden thought interrupting his glory. He tore the silver door wide open and removed the sopping, dripping parcel. 

"Oh God." Emmett groaned, his teary eyes ripped away from his best friend and Melanie's awful new hairdo as he feared what part of Justin Brian was now unwrapping. 

A smile played across his face as fold after icy fold gave way to the grotesquely made-up liver and salmon. 

"It's time to go." Brian said, more to himself than anyone else. Without warning, he launched the entire bloody package into the crowd of friends, screams both loud and muffled shouting in protest. Ted received most of it across his white shirt, directly where Brian wanted it. Laughing, he unsheathed a gleaming hunting knife, running over to Michael and slashing quickly downward. 

The duct tape split as if by magic while Michael hid his face. Brian stood above him, the weapon dangling loosely at his side. "You had better get everyone out of here before I change my mind." He warned. "I wouldn't want to be here in a couple of minutes." 

Michael nodded, trying to decipher whether his friend was returning to his senses or if his alter-ego had a change of heart. He started with Emmett and they worked at untying the other two. Grabbing Ted's feet, Michael led the way with Emmett and Melanie at the limp man's arms. 

Brian closed the door behind them solemnly, and turned to face his splendor. 

Justin laughed so hard he couldn't control the tears clearing a passage through the makeshift blood. He couldn't believe Brian had gone through with this. Not only that, but the master of his tiny universe was going to get away with it. He got up from the hardwood floor and carefully walked to Brian, his feet slipping and sliding in the gory mess. 

"And you did this because you were bored." He stated, shaking his head. 

Mario rose from the dead, his limbs moving slowly as they returned to life. 

"Okay boys, let's make this look like it never happened." Brian smiled as the maintenance man arrived to take his tools. 

"What the Hell hap -?" 

"I'm not paying you to ask questions. It's kinky, take it at that." Brian ordered, shoving a few bills into the man's hand as he slammed the door shut. It was pure luck that the man hadn't run into the fleeing people in his journey up. The four must have moved fast, either that, or they had found the stalled elevator and pooled further downstairs at the site below his travels. 

The shag carpet was soaked through, so it had to be removed. Gathering their strength together, Justin and Brian hoisted the white rug into a closet and closed it inside. Mario finished scrubbing the floor in the bedroom and living room, dreaming of the perfect life he could make with the gloriously inventive and creative Brian Kinney. He smiled up at Brian, though he and the boy were now focused on the other's eyes and smiling inside a place only they shared. He stood and saluted them, took what was left of the cash in Brian's wallet, a few DVD's, and closed the door behind him. *You just don't see love like that anymore.* He thought, taking the ready, empty and trap-free elevator down. 

* 

10:30 p.m. 

"Lindsay, are you okay?" Melanie hugged her, shaking. 

"Your hair." Lindsay gasped. 

Ted moaned, rolling over on the floor where they had left him. Needing a break, Emmett tried to get though to the police on his cell phone. "No, you don't understand! There has been several murders at Brian Kinn -" Emmett stopped. "Ted!" He screamed in mid-sentence. 

"Sir, are you still there?" The operator asked bitterly. "Sir, we were told earlier by Mister Kinney himself that there have been people calling-in murders that are not true because they have a grudge. We have sent two patrol units to his home in the past twenty-four hours, and everything checks out." She explained. "Are you aware that it is against the law to -" 

Emmett hung up. He couldn't explain it. No police had visited Brian or the gore festival inside his loft. Running to Ted, he smiled and touched the man's forehead. Melanie and Michael crowded around, Lindsay clinging to her lover. 

The slowly shriveling gizzards rolled from his shirt, sticking only at first. Ted looked down in amazement at his abdomen, the numbness fading to reveal no pain whatsoever. The skin was unblemished. 

Michael seethed. "I am going to kill him." 

Emmett looked around in doubt. "Then this was all a'|All a'|" 

Mario tromped down the stairs and froze as the group turned icy glares on him. He only smiled. "Essere stanco di questo vaffanculo d'un paese." He sighed and slipped past their awe-stricken faces. I am sick of this fucking country. He thought as if their clueless expressions could have been clarified by the phrase in English. 

"I am going to kill him!" Michael growled, racing back up the stairs in a fury. 

* 

"I hear them." Justin warned, his body clear of any molestation. "You are a dead man." 

Brian laughed. "A night well spent with the ones I love." He smiled and jogged to the door, pulling the lock into place. 

The ones he loves. Justin smiled. That was good enough for him. 

Michael hit the door with full-force, hollering at the top of his lungs. "Brian Patrick Kinney!" 

"Open this door!" Melanie ordered, her quiet tone far more frightening than Michael's. 

Justin grinned. "I don't want to see what they're going to do to you." 

"That's why you should open the door." 

"What?" Justin raised his eyebrows. "Save your ass again?" 

"I've got plans for you, Justin, don't make it hurt." He threatened playfully, imagining the screams he could bring from the caverns of his lover. 

Justin went to the door, watching Brian climb into his kitchen cabinet for safety. He pulled it open, offering an innocent stare. 

"What's wrong, guys?" He asked, his control lost as a smile raised his cheekbones. 

"You shits!" Michael wailed, nearly popping Justin with his fist. "Where is he?" 

"Who?" 

"Justin, baby, you can go with very little retaliation." Melanie told him coolly. "We just want the ring-leader." 

"Then you've got him. It was my idea. I brought the stuff over. It was all me. Brian only helped." 

Michael pushed the boy down, but started laughing instead of jumping on him. "Revenge." He said. "We will get you two back." He promised and helped Justin to his feet. "Do you hear that Brian? It may not be for some time, but you won't be forgotten." Slowly pushing his friends backwards, he laughed softly. "This was good, but we are more. We will'|oh." He grinned. "Revenge." The insanity had taken over his voice and he shook his head. "Recover and watch out." The truth was, he couldn't wait to get home and laugh. The others may have been pissed beyond repair, but it was just too funny to ruin. Brian had to have thought this whole plan out, likely at a time when he was bored and needed something new in his life. Melanie's hair was now a shade too-absurd on her dark countenance, their clothes were ruined, Lindsay spent most of the night in a creepy elevator, Emmett would lose his voice by the next morning, and poor Ted would likely wet his bed for the next week. Michael forced the group outside into the cold night and sighed. "Don't worry, guys. He'll pay." 

Melanie smiled curtly. "Damn straight he will." 

Lindsay suddenly laughed, clutching her sides and leaning against her lover. "I don't know, Mel. I kind of like it." She joked. "Oh, I needed that." 

Emmett followed suit, as did Ted and finally Melanie until they were all shaking the silent street with uncontrolled laughter. "We're not going to get them back, are we?" Emmett asked in between guffaws, trying to breathe. 

Michael shook his head. "Nothing can beat that." 

"Bastard." Melanie swore, her smile continuing. "Knows just how to pull it over the top." 

"Isn't that why we like him?" Lindsay asked. 

"We like him?" Melanie said off-handedly, swearing to never forget what he did to her if a lifetime passed by. 

Michael nodded. He understood what she meant. Brian kept life exciting, even if it did mean having a series of elaborate heart attacks. "Come on, guys, let's get out of here before he thinks of something new." 

* 

Justin nodded. "They didn't even call the cops. You know them so well!" 

Brian sighed. "They probably did, but I called them first. Once before Michael came over and again right before Emmett. I told them that Brian Kinney was murdering people on the fifth floor of his apartment building." 

"Fifth floor?" 

"There's an empty loft down there that's on display. It's usually open, welcome to walk-ins and such. I went down there and told the cops that I'd just moved in and my old roommates were harassing me, calling the cops and saying I was a murderer." He explained, relaxing on his chaise lounge chair. He sighed wearily and dramatically draped an arm over his eyes. "It's so hard being me." 

Justin straddled his lover. "Uh huh. Now what was that about you having plans for me?" 

Brian smiled, eyes still covered. "That, young one, is something you will regret reminding me of." 

Justin removed the bathrobe covering his body and spread Brian's buttoned shirt to his sides. "So Brian," He wondered aloud. "What are we going to do tomorrow night?"


End file.
